Parental Bias

Today I had a morning meeting with our lawyer, before heading to work. I was getting ready, and so were my parents. Not that they were coming along; oh no, they were headed out for breakfast.

Thanks to repeating the conversation I had with my boss to them, my mum cheekily asked whether the lawyer was dishy. I ignored this, when my dad chirped in to stick up for the French Student. (Those two. Thick as thieves.) So I said that someone could be exceptionally handsome, loaded with intelligence and wealth, and be a wonderful person and I still wouldn’t consider giving up my French student.

Of course, my mum being my mum says, no guy is good enough for you. So I respond, “I know, right? I am such a dream to live with!”

To which my parents snort derisively and chuckle like I’ve cracked the joke of the century. And suddenly the French Student became “the poor French Student”.

Sheesh.

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